Me cheated

Not the same type of present, like a pair of socks, but the exact same object.

It’s a book, and each year my brother takes it from Dad’s house, wraps it up and gives it back to him.

They think it is hilarious.

The book is about a chimpanzee and it was originally a gift for me.

In our house, it’s not unusual for everyone to hand each other books as presents and that year was an especially book-filled one.

Over lunch my Dad handed me and my brother wrapped volumes. My brother opened a finely bound collection of beat poetry, a great gift for him because he is a big, fat hipster.

Then it was my turn,

Now, I’m not a psychiatrist but there may have been some latent sibling-induced jealousy at play when I reacted less than graciously to the autobiography of a chimpanzee that I unwrapped.

It was called 'Me Cheeta'. It was an autobiography of a chimp. It was written by a human.

Cheeta was the chimpanzee that starred in the Tarzan movies and the book recounted with a straight face and in the first person the chimp's years in Hollywood through to his retirement which he spent as an abstract painter. At least, that’s what I think it was about because I never read it. I didn’t even take it home with me after Christmas but left it sitting on the dinner table at Dad’s house.

And I know that was neither a nice thing nor the right thing to do. I know I should have just pretended to love it then put it in my bag after lunch and later donated it to the Salvos.

I know Dad wasn’t trying to take the piss, I think, but I was particularly bothered by what Dad seemed to be implying as to the respective brain power of my brother and me.

In fact, it turns out that the monkey* book was quite well received by the critics. Which, of course, is aside from the fact that this present was a soft cover with a chimpanzee’s mug on the front. A monkey covered paperback sitting in the hard bound shadow of my little brother’s towering tribute to some of the 20th century's freest spirits.

Anyway, my indignation presented a great opportunity for my brother to take the piss, and take it he did, by rewrapping my unread present and regifting it to Dad....every….bloody….year. And they laugh and they laugh and they laugh.

I know this story makes me look ungrateful, and I was, an ungrateful 29-year-old child.

Now, as a grown man of 33 summers, age has mellowed me and I look back these 4 years to that Christmas and I know I’m starting to deal with it because I can look at this family ritual with a glint in my eye. A glint of murder.

Ana Tovey

Brian

On my desk Ruslan, I have a brass statue of the 3 wise monkeys, a significant present from my darling Karen. Do I live my life according to the principles they teach us? I think you will need to ask others.
How about you Rus? Do I need to ask your parents, your brother, your wife, your close friends, or are reflective & aware of your givings & misgivings? Are you like that lovable chimp above, speaking evil, seeing evil, hearing evil & perhaps doing a few naughty things, but certainly not evil?!
B

Lizzy

Love this story. What a gorgeous family.

Tina

Don't want to spoil the surprise, but this year I can assure you that Santa aka Dad has a book for you which is hardcover and bigger than your little brothers:)

Ruslan Kulski

Good question June! It's books all round again this year, all of them are about humans

June

This made me chuckle! But what book will you give them both this year?
Or is the blog the present ?

Jimmy James

The large monkey truly doth shine

Vanessa

I thoroughly enjoyed this eavesdrop into your family Ruslan!

clancy

You are a wise chimp yourself if you can now rise above the sniggered annual re-gifting of your present and see the humour in it. I'm sure few beat poets would bother with such low-brow jibes. Your brother needs to read more chimp stories.